


Versus

by en passant (corinthian)



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Chaldea Boys Collection 2016, M/M, Non-Graphic Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:34:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinthian/pseuds/en%20passant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>high school BL paro</p>
            </blockquote>





	Versus

**Author's Note:**

> when you graduate in anime, you die in real life

It shouldn't have come to this, really. A part of Arjuna knows that — is practically screaming that — but the rest of him ignores it. He should have simply bid Karna his goodbyes, congratulated him and then picked up his bag and left. Instead —

Instead, it's the two of them with the empty archery range behind them, Arjuna still rooted where he had been left standing hours ago. His feet had refused to move even when the rest of his body had gone through the motions. A gracious smile, a white lie — we all did our best today, I'm proud of our efforts — a sportsman-like bow. All while he had been boiling over, underneath all of that polite veneer.

"Today — " Arjuna forces out.

Karna, who had left to be celebrated while Arjuna had stood there, shellshocked by the simple words: Congratulations on second place. And then returned, before Arjuna had forced himself to leave. (He kept wondering, what had gone wrong, exactly. Everything had been perfect. _He_ had been perfect. And of course there had been that dark attendant at his side making the suggestion: There's still a way...)

Years. It had been years since he first met Karna — and then, _then_ Arjuna had been the victorious one. Arjuna had had the advantage. They were 345 days apart in age, just enough to be considered part of the same year, 1 cm difference in height and if the three years of high school were averaged together they were essentially dead even in test scores.

But this loss hurts the most — the final match of the year, of their high school careers and Karna was the victor.

"— it's your loss." Karna cuts him off, pre-empts what Arjuna is going to say. The worst thing is, Karna isn't even cruel about it. Somehow, it might have been easier to stand if Karna's character was rotten. Instead it's a simple statement, a fact. It burns.

He feels trapped. If he leaves, then the loss becomes permanent. Then who he is in this instant — a loser — is the final memory of his high school archery career. If he stays, however... or even worse, if he takes those two steps forward to where Karna stands in front of him, he doesn't know what will happen.

The unknown and perfection are often at odds. 

"This was the last time," Karna says.

"Then you're saying with your victory that it's over." Arjuna grinds out. His own voice startles him, it's dark and tense and not at all like the carefully polished tone he's perfected over the years. It's not at all like School President Arjuna.

Karna can tell too, his eyes narrow slightly. Arjuna feels even more out of sorts because he sees that expression change, he knows Karna can tell. He feels like he's exposing a part of himself that he doesn't want to.

"I am," Karna replies. He then holds his hand out. "Congratulations, for the past three years."

(Their first year — Karna had won then too. The first loss Arjuna had ever had in his life and the only feeling he had then had been elation. He had never felt so alive standing in front of the timeboard, to see that someone had run faster than him. For the first time in his life he felt like meaning had been given to him. Practice no longer became route, he had a goal. He was going to destroy Karna in the next track meet.)

(Second year — Arjuna's test scores bested Karna's by three points. They both stood in front of the bulletin and when Arjuna turned to face Karna, offer his condolences, there was the oddest expression on Karna's face. For two years Arjuna had been used to seeing Karna's expressions across the field, the classroom desk rows, on the other side of everything. Karna's expressions were often stoic, sometimes closed and critical, very often unreadable. But that time, Arjuna could understand it clearly. It was saying, next time. Next time I'll win.)

(And every meeting between those two years and into their third year. Battle by battle, step by step, they pushed each other to excel.)

Arjuna feels mocked.

"It's easy for you to say that now, isn't it?" He demands.

Karna seems surprised, but he doesn't say anything in response to remedy the situation either.

Arjuna feels his patience, his hold on his emotions, start to loosen. It's like a rope is unraveling at a rapid pace, the threads fraying and separating to reveal the individual strands. (— and something else is there, hidden underneath it all, a feeling he's been trying to ignore for three long years.)

"You don't have any idea, do you?" Arjuna keeps talking, he can't stop himself. "It's so easy for you to walk away from this, isn't it?"

He doesn't want it to end — he doesn't want it to end like this, with him watching Karna's back. Being left behind. Being the loser, after all of this.

"Arjuna," Karna cuts in. "... this kind of behaviour..."

In honesty, they haven't spoken much to each other over three years. Promises to win, taunts, the proper sportsmanlike handshakes when needed. But Karna still speaks to him in a familiar way, as if he knows Arjuna well.

"Be silent, don't continue that." Arjuna hisses and he takes those two steps forward. His body moves on its own and crosses the distance between them, both his hands going up and grabbing onto Karna's collar. "Don't admonish me as if we're friends. We've never been anything but enemies."

Karna places his hands over Arjuna's fists.

"You didn't strike me. Your hands are shaking." That's all he says.

The last piece of Arjuna's self-control shatters.

"Would you rather I strike you? If you wanted that then you should have let me win." He doesn't mean it. The words just come out of his mouth and Arjuna can't stop them. "Would you rather be the defeated one? The loser to leave with his head hung low!? This is the last time — and — this is the last time."

He doesn't want it to end.

"What do you really want?" Karna asks.

(When Arjuna was very young, he imagined that as soon as he couldn't see anyone, they would cease to exist. He used to cry quite a lot when his parents were in the other room or when his older siblings left for school. It always seemed miraculous when they appeared again before him. For some reason, he's always been doubtful of others' returns. Parting always seemed so final.)

It isn't a difficult decision to make, now.

Arjuna pulls Karna down, hard. Their mouths practically collide — and it isn't even a kiss at all. Karna's exclamation gets lost between them. And then he shoves Arjuna back. "I have no arguments with your desires, but it's your methods that I can't stand by." Karna says.

It doesn't make sense to Arjuna, not those words, not Karna's expression that is too sharp and too soft all at once. He probably swings his fist at Karna first, out of shame. And Karna hits him in return. They fight. Arjuna breathless, he punches and kicks and any of his lessons (a correct fist, the angle at which he should drive his elbow into an enemy) leave his mind. A part of him is simply satisfied to feel Karna's flesh under his hands, the ragged breathing of his opponent.

Tomorrow, he'll have a black eye, a bruised cheek, a split lip, a stiffness to his ribs. They hit the ground and roll. Karna jams his knee up into Arjuna's ribs and side, and Arjuna grabs hold of Karna's tie and pulls back, the slip knot sliding down and burying deep in the crevice of his collar. He pushes Karna down with his other hand too, and straddles him.

"You're the only one who makes me feel this way." Arjuna confesses, but he says it like it's a curse.

Karna wheezes, his breath is choked but instead of trying to loosen the tie or stop Arjuna from pulling on it he reaches up, tangles his fingers in Arjuna's hair and pulls him down. Again, their mouths collide, but it's more of a kiss than before. Even if Arjuna bites and even if Karna still can't catch his breath.

Arjuna is the first one to pull back, a little. "What do you really want." He repeats back at Karna. "Or is this just so you can watch me come undone? Do you enjoy your victory so much? I won't be able to stop, soon. You have to take responsibility too." That's as much of a warning as he'll give.

"Are you the kind of person who needs to be told twice?" Karna's voice is quiet and raw and even if Arjuna has relieved the pressure on the tie around his neck, it's still tight. "Use me as you see it."

It's an unfair amount of responsibility, Arjuna feels. The dissatisfaction burns in his chest, but it can't outweigh his other feelings.

"What kind of statement is that?" He asks, flatly, but it's enough.

This isn't the proper place. Arjuna thinks that every time his knuckles hit the hardwood beneath them, or elbows or palms slide on sweat or saliva. They're exposed and public, should anyone happen by. That doesn't give him urgency though, he hurries because it (still) feels like the opportunity is slipping through his fingers. Even when he pulls Karna's trousers down around his knees and even when they rut against each other, both seeking friction and release. Their mouths find each other, Arjuna's fingers bury and spread within Karna. They are both too hurried. Karna's uneven breathing matches Arjuna's erratic heartbeat He's the first to come, Arjuna quickly after him.

Again, more, there's still time. Arjuna says. Karna's reply is just that they have until the end of the day.

Spit and patience, Arjuna's frayed self-control and Karna's acceptance. It's uncomfortable for them both, but Arjuna pushes Karna's knees open wider, sucks his lower lip into his mouth to tongue and bite and Karna receives it all graciously — fingers wrapped in Arjuna's hair so tightly he pulls some loose, fingernail furrows left across Arjuna's chest and back.

Eventually, their shadows grow long, Karna's legs tremble and Arjuna is spent. Even still, Arjuna's left hand still clings to the askew lapel of Karna's jacket. "It's over." Karna comments.

"Ah... it's over." Arjuna agrees, even he knows that there's nothing left, that soon they'll both have to go home, and then graduation is coming and then —

* * *

Arjuna hears it from another family member, about a brother he has through his mother's first marriage.

Karna hears it from another family member, how Arjuna is going to a top-ranked university, soon.

(Karna had wanted to congratulate Arjuna. It had been nice to see him grow up, to see him improve and get stronger year over year. Even though they were essentially strangers, they had also been constant companions, in a way.)


End file.
